


the college experience

by windshields



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: AFAB reader - Freeform, College!Ford, Crush at First Sight, Cunnilingus, Dorm Sex, Eventual relationship, F/M, Female Reader, First Relationship, First Time, Ford studies a lot, Porn with Feelings, Slow Build, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, college!ford looks like such a cute little nerd, first time i saw him all i could think was, god i wanna pop his cherry so bad, library clerk!reader, like 1975, reader is more experienced, reader works at the campus library, takes place in the 1970s, tw: toxic friends/bullying, virgin!ford
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27239005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windshields/pseuds/windshields
Summary: Library Clerk meets Cute Nerd and Falls Hard. Romance Ensues.
Relationships: Ford Pines/Reader, Young!Ford Pines/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 63





	1. help me study for my astrophysics test on tuesday?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi,  
> so this started off as like a thirst, one-shot but then I got attached to the idea of college-age ford finally getting his first real girlfriend so whoop here you go. enjoy :)
> 
> -WARNING-  
> !!this fic will contain chapters with 18+ nsfw content. This one does not, but please be sure to check the beginning notes because that's where I'll be putting in warnings.  
> So if that's not really your jam, turn back now. If that's the only reason why you're here then, please, proceed.

There he was again.

The first time you saw him was at the beginning of the semester. You decided to take up a job at your campus’ library, helping students find the books they needed or guiding them through the new technology the campus had recently adopted. You liked it; you consider yourself a well-read person and enjoyed the peaceful, quiet space of the library. Plus, the work itself wasn’t difficult, it paid decently, and gave you plenty of time to work on your own assignments. On one very slow day, you were wandering down the aisles, a crate of books tucked under your arm. You were returning them to their proper places on the shelves when you saw him. He was the only other person in the library aside from yourself; a young, brunette man, with a strong jawline and a cleft in his chin, sitting alone at one of the study desks. Books were stacked in piles around him, several laying open on the table. He switched between scanning the text almost inhumanly fast and scratching down what you assumed were notes or annotations. He was cute, very cute. You quickly tucked the rest of the books away and made your way towards him.

“At this rate, I think you could probably get through the rest of the library by lunch.” You commented as you passed by his table, your voice reverberating off of the high ceiling. He jumped at the sound of your voice, looking up so suddenly it caused his glasses to slip down his nose slightly. 

“What?” He asked, eyes wide with confusion. You nodded your head towards the piles of books that towered over him. “O-oh!” He seemed surprised: as if he were unaware of the growing collection around him. “I’m sorry, do you need any of these back?” You felt your stomach do somersaults; he was cute and considerate? You shrugged, nonchalantly, shifting the box from under your arm to hugging it in front of you. 

“Only if you’re done with them.” The man set his pencil down and peered up to glance at the book that topped one of the piles. “These,” he slid a tower of books towards the edge of the table with his forearm while continuing to look around his space. “And, uh, all of these as well..” He said sheepishly, this time using both hands to shift an even bigger pile of books towards the edge of the table. You stared up the mountain of text before you before glancing down at the box held snug in your arms.

“Uhhh, lemme go grab the cart real quick.” You laughed, setting the box on the table.

“Wait! Uh, allow me to help.” He offered, pushing himself up out of his chair. You didn’t even try to bite back the smile that spread across your face. Cute, considerate, and polite?! It’d be a miracle if he didn’t already belong to someone. As the two of you worked on packing the box, you began to notice a theme in the book's subjects.

“Genetic anomalies, unexplained phenomena, cryptozoology...” You read aloud before setting them down. “Pretty interesting subjects,” you commented. You noticed a slight blush blossom onto his cheeks. “Is this for school or just for you?” You asked, pausing when you noticed his hands. You didn’t mean to stare, really you didn’t; if anything you were surprised it took you this long to notice: he had an extra finger on each hand. The moment he caught you looking at his anomaly, he hurriedly tucked them under a pile of books, heaving them off the table.

“For school. Where would you like these?” He strained to get out the last sentence, the pile of books was apparently a lot heavier than he expected.

“Oh- Uh…” You scooped the now-full box up off the table with ease and hurried over to the front desk. You noticed his arms beginning to shake with fatigue so you pulled the book-cart out from behind your desk and wheeled it out towards him. “Right over here.” Just in time, it seemed, as he dropped all the books onto the metal cart with a loud bang! You winced as the sound ripped through the silent environment of the library. You saw his shoulders were raised as well, eyes shut tight as the loud sound echoed around the vast space. The two of you stood there, frozen in the silence that grips you after making such a harsh noise in such a quiet space. Before breaking it again, this time with shared laughter.

“Sorry,” He laughed, embarrassed. A pretty pink flush had spread across his face and even started burning at the tips of his ears.

“Don’t worry about it, thanks for your help.” You said rounding the cart and flashing him a sweet smile. You noticed his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nervously.

“O-of course! Anytime.” He took a six-fingered hand out of his pocket and rubbed the back of his neck. You gave him another smile and left him to finish his work, pushing the now full book-cart back over to the shelves.  
And that was it. That’s all it took for you to fall head-over-heels for him. 

He was gone by the time you finished putting all the books away. The only remnants of his present being the still-glowing light from the study lamp above the desk. You frowned, folding up a piece of paper you'd written your phone number on.  
“Next time,” you told yourself as you turned off the light and continued closing the library for the night. 

He became known as “Cute Library Guy” as you recounted your encounter with him to your friends over lunch the next day. One friend of yours claimed to know who you were talking about, that their roommate last semester had him in their astrophysics class.

“Dude’s crazy smart,” She claimed, “Cassy said that he had an A in that class the entire semester, which she said was, like, literally impossible, and he even schooled the prof a couple of times.” You were spellbound; your lunch laying before you, forgotten.

“What’s his name?” You asked excitedly. But your friend merely shrugged.

“Don’t remember, Frank maybe? I don’t know, but I think it started with an F.” You deflated. “Wait, it could’ve been an S.”

“Well, what did it start with? An S or an F?” You huffed. Your friend laughed.

“What does it matter? You’re not actually thinking of going after that freak, are you?” You snapped your gaze up to meet hers. 

“What do you mean?” You asked, your tone laced heavily with trepidation.

“Cassy said that he’s got some kind of deformity,” She sneered. “Told me he looked like something you’d see in a freak show.” Realizing that you’re going to need to find new friends, you grabbed your tray and stood up. “Hey, where are you going?” 

“Got a shift starting in fifteen, plus I’ve lost my appetite.” You spat, pushing your chair out angrily and walking away. Dumping your tray in the trash on your way out of the cafeteria.

~

Days came and went. You’d wake up, hurry to catch the bus, struggle to stay awake in class, walk to the library, work until the sun disappeared below the horizon, catch the last bus back to your dorm, rinse and repeat. Becoming more disappointed every time the day would go by and you wouldn’t see hide of hair of Cute Library Guy. Days soon turned to weeks and you started to give up hope. Wondering how it was possible your paths hadn’t crossed again yet. But, with no actual name to go on, any investigation would be fruitless. 

You sighed as you started up the stairs, looking up at the large, looming structure that is the campus library. Your fingers curled over the soft, frayed piece of paper in your pocket. It was your phone number, with your name and a heart, the one you meant to give him that day you met. You'd been keeping it in your pocket, hell-bent on giving it to him the next time you ran into each other. You had let him slip through your fingers once; you were not about to let it happen again. Once reaching the top, you pulled open the door to the library. There were a surprising amount of people in there already, midterms were around the corner so everyone was crunched for time: including yourself. You quickly make your way to the back to clock in and set yourself up at your desk.

The rest of the day went by normally, as it usually did. Most people kept to themselves so you were able to make great progress on your own projects, pausing here and there to help the people who approached your desk. You peered up at the clock and were surprised to see that the library was meant to close in fifteen minutes. Glancing around the main study area you were relieved to see it was empty, everyone seeming to have cleared out hours ago. You packed your school things back into your bag and grabbed your walkman. Putting in a tape, you slipped your headphones over your ears and pressed play. Music filled your ears instantly; stuffing the walkman into your pocket, you hurriedly made your way around the library, determined to make quick work of closing.  
You were standing in the middle of an aisle, arms full of books, and singing along with the music. Swaying with the rhythm, you danced along the shelves, returning the books held in your arms back to their proper place. You tossed in a couple of specialized dance moves, a mic-dip here, some air guitar there, and lots of headbanging. You turned and started down the next aisle, falling backward onto your backside after running directly into something solid. The fall knocking off not only your headphones but the books you had in your arms, now scattered all over the floor. 

“Ohmygosh! I’m so sorry, are you alright?” A six-fingered extended down towards you. You froze, staring at the offer before slowly raising your gaze up to its owner; it was him. Finally having crossed paths yet again with this seemingly elusive stranger, your thoughts raced at a million miles a second, words getting left far behind. All you could do was stare at him; he had the prettiest hazel eyes. Even in the dimly lit library space, you could see the gold flakes in his eyes shimmering, ever so slightly.

“...It’s you.” You breathed, barely above a whisper. He tilted his head slightly. Gingerly, you placed your hand in his open palm. He grabbed you in return and helped you back onto your feet. 

“Is the library closed? I was in one of the study rooms and I’m afraid I lost track of time.” You said nothing, letting your hand linger in his grasp as he spoke. You couldn’t help but notice how much bigger his hands were compared to yours. He pulled away first: dropping down and busying his hands by collecting the books off the ground.

“Oh! Uh-yeah, we close at ten but, don’t worry, I wasn’t paying attention either.” You responded, pausing the tape in your walkman and finally cutting the faint music that came from the headphones hanging around your neck. 

“I’m-” He started, standing up and handing the stack of text back to you. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to run into you like that.” You smiled, taking the books back from him and tucking them under your arm. 

“It’s all good,” You reassured. “I’m glad you did, actually. I would’ve felt terrible if I had accidentally locked you in here!” You laughed, slipping a hand into your pocket to rewind your tape. You froze when you felt something soft and papery brush against your skin.

“I’ll go, so you can finish closing. Have a nice night!” And just like that, as he turned to walk away, you realized you had to take the chance while you had it. You held the piece of paper in your pocket.

“Wait!” You called out. He stopped and turned to face you. You felt yourself start to freeze. “Come on...do it!” You yelled, internally. “Uh-would...would you mind walking with me to my dorm building?” Your heart was hammering in your chest, what were you doing?! “Just give him the number! The plan was to give him your number!” Your brain screamed at you. 

“Of course!” He answered, the sound of his voice snapping you out of your head. His smile beamed, and man did it light up the room. Your shoulders slumped and you let out the breath you were holding in, though the paper slip was clutched tight in your hand. You stuck out your free hand, introducing yourself. He looked from your outstretched hand to you, his own were stuffed in his front pockets. “Nice to meet you,” You felt all six of his fingers grasp your hand in a firm, but gentle handshake. “I’m Stanford.”

You still had a few more things to do before closing the library doors for the night. So you told Ford to gather his things and you’d meet him at the entrance. While furiously sorting documents into their proper places in the filing cabinet, your voice in your head continued to berate you.

“Unbelievable,” The small voice sneered. You filed the manilla envelope in your hand under “M”. “You have to do it now. If you don’t, who knows if you’ll ever get the chance again!” You fumbled, another folder tumbling out of your hand and spilling papers all over the floor. Letting out a long, deep sigh before dropping to the floor and beginning to recollect the scattered documents. You held all the papers in your hand, staring down at them. Your voice, now meek and sad, rang clear throughout your mind: “...I don’t know if I can.”

Slinging your own bag over your shoulders, you finally left the back office and ran through the forest of bookshelves towards the front doors. You saw Ford standing there, he smiled when he saw you. 

“Ready?” He called out. His rich, baritone voice echoing beautifully in the acoustics of the empty library. You signaled your approval with a thumbs up and continued your way over, pulling a lanyard out of your bag as you walked. The two of you stepped out into the cold, dark November night. No snow yet, but the air was still cold, and the wind bit right through your jacket. You could see clouds of yours and Ford’s breath in the dim glow of the streetlamps which lined the sidewalks. You locked the library doors and stuffed the keys, along with your freezing fingers, back into your pocket. A corner of the paper slip reminding you of what you still had to do.

“Alright,” You proclaimed, giving the door a tug to ensure it was locked. “Let’s get a move on.” Heading down the library stairs, the two of you started off towards the dorm buildings.

Your teeth were chattering so much, you were afraid they were about to crack. The late Autumn wind was bitterly cold and relentless. No matter how far you burrowed your neck into your coat or your nose into your scarf, the biting chill managed to worm its way in. Resulting in full-body shivers that were unrelenting and unstoppable. Ford looked over at you.

“You cold?” He asked, offering you his arm. You looked up at him, still hunched over shaking like a frightened animal.

“A little,” you stuttered. Looping your arm through his, he drew you in close so that you were nearly flushed against his side.

“Better?” Ford questioned, his only response being a lazy nod of your head. The warmth of his broad frame against you was akin to sinking into a warm bath after a long day. The conversation between you and Ford flowed naturally and easily as you continued towards the dorms. You found out that he was, indeed, incredibly intelligent. Staring up in awe as he went on to talk about the work he was currently conducting in order to be awarded a grant so he could continue his research.

“And what exactly is it that you’re researching?” You inquired, you were only a couple of yards away from the entrance to your dorm building.

“Ah-ha well, you see, about that I’m-uh…” Ford gave a hefty sighed, “I’m not quite sure yet.” You gave a quiet chuckle, letting go of his arm to turn and face him.

“Thanks so much for walking me to my building. I really appreciate you going out of your way for me.” You held the piece of paper tight between your fingers; you felt your heart begin to race.

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all! I’m actually in building number three.” He stated, pointing to the dorm building adjacent to yours. Your jaw dropped.

“What?! Really?” You gasped. Ford looked bashful, smiling awkwardly and nodding. “I never see you anywhere! Not in the cafeteria, or the common-rooms, not even on the campus bus!” Ford looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I...don’t really leave my room that often.” He shrugged. “Except to go to the library, of course.” You laughed,

“And to do your laundry too, right?” You joked, fingers curled anxiously around the slip.

“Wait-you can do laundry here?” Ford asked, faining sincerity. You both laughed, after taking in one final breath: you did it. 

“Here.” You said, holding out the worn, wrinkled piece of paper out to him. Ford paused but took the paper from your outstretched hand. He unfolded it, read it once, twice, and even tilted his head to look at it from a different angle. 

“Is this...your phone number?” Ford asked genuinely. You stared at him for a moment.

“..Yes...”

“Oh...why?” You froze and felt the panic set in.

“My friend had you in her astrophysics class last semester and said that you did really well.” You blurted out. “My midterm is coming next week and I need to do well in order to have any hope of passing this class. Can you help me?” You shrank down into your jacket. The thrumming of your heartbeat in ears growing louder the longer Ford took to respond. He was still transfixed by the fact that he, of all people, got a slip of paper with a girl’s number.

“Yeah! Yeah, of course! Are you free this Wednesday?” He proposed.

“Uhh..I’ve got a lecture that day, usually around four.” You stuttered, still reeling from the adrenaline rush. 

“Perfect! Then, I’ll ring you around four on Wednesday! And we can go over whatever concepts you need help on in my dorm.” Ford turned to face you. “Sound good?” You nodded, 

"Y-Yeah! Sounds great!" You smiled, bid him goodnight, and walked into your dorm building. Stepping into the elevator, you let your forehead thump against the cold metal of the closed door. You listened as your brain began to berate you again, not only for chickening out but now for lying: you weren't taking astrophysics.


	2. cherry bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stanford-”
> 
> “Yes?”
> 
> “I’m not taking astrophysics.”
> 
> uh oh...whatever shall we do now....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> howdy yall! apologies for the delay in this chapter, I didn't intend for this to be so difficult to put together. I'm really happy with the way it turned out though so I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> !!WARNiNG!! this chapter contains NSFW 18+ content so proceed with caution.

And so there you were: sitting cross-legged on the twin-sized dorm bed of the smartest guy on your campus, pretending to follow along as he tutors you on a subject that you’re not even taking a class for. 

“Who did you say your professor was again?” Ford asks, pausing his current lecture to swap out books. You freeze, the pencil in your hand that was attempting to take down notes suddenly stilled. 

“Uhhhh,” You stutter. “I can never say it right.” Fingers beginning to twirl your pencil nervously. “I think it’s German or something.”

“Ah, okay.” Ford nods, “What does he look like?” You blanch, your brain scrambling to try and keep up the lie. 

“Uhh, shorter guy? Kinda stocky, gray hair…” 

“Does he have a beard?” Ford asks. You pause and look over at him, deciding to play along.

“Yeah! How’d you know?” You gasp, feigning surprise. 

“That’s Professor Schneider,” You silently let out the breath you’ve been holding, relieved that actually worked. “Strange though, I thought Professor Schneider only taught microbiology.” You decide that it’s time for a new conversation topic.

“So are these all of yours or have you been sneaking books out of the library when my back is turned?” You tease, removing the heavy textbook from your lap and hopping off his bed. Ford watches you wander over to his desk, biting back a snicker when you push yourself up onto your tiptoes. You crane your head to the side to read to spines of the books that lined his bookshelf.

“They’re mine, I promise.” Ford laughs, “Wait, you’re allowed to take books from the library!” 

“Yeah, but you have to give them back eventually!” You answer, pulling out a copy of Nikola Tesla’s autobiography.

“I’m not sure if you’ll find anything to your liking,” Ford states, hazel eyes shimmering in the orange glow of the late afternoon sun. You spin on your heels to face him.

“Why, because girls can’t like science?” You retort, sarcastically. Ford’s head snaps up to look at you.

“No, not at all! It’s just…well, compared to your usual selection,” Ford’s eyes scanned along the spines of his multitudes of books on multidimensional theory, scientist’s autobiographies, and mathematical studies. He followed down to the ever-growing piles of books on his floor, far too many for his tiny dorm space. “Mine’s a bit bland, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll have to bring over some of my old poetry books next time.” You shrug, continuing to flip through the book in your hand.

“I’ve never been a fan of poetry.” He remarks, nonchalantly.

“What?! Stanford…” You exclaim, setting the book back down on his desk and returning to join him on his bed.

“What? It’s not like I hate it, I just...never really understood it.”

“That’s okay. I can teach you.” The two of you laugh.

“Well, let’s get through this first,” Ford responds. Switching back over, he continues to explain the incredibly complex theory. You scramble to keep taking your fake notes. The longer Ford went on, looking over to check and see if you were still following along, the guilter you began to feel. Finally, you decided to say something:

“Stanford-”

“Yes?”

“I’m not taking astrophysics.”

“...W-what?” Ford blinks up at you through his thick lenses. You nip at your lower lip, guilt beginning to twist up your stomach. Your eyes wander down to the volumes of textbooks that sat around you on Ford’s bed. Scrap papers and pens litter his covers, open notebooks covered from end to end with thoughtful hypotheses and complex diagrams. Your own backpack remained zipped shut, slumped against his bed frame.

“I’m not even taking any science classes, my major is in the Arts.” You utter sheepishly, scratching nonsensical patterns into his comforter. “That night we ran into each other again at the library,” You look up to meet Ford’s gaze. “After I gave you my number I just...I don’t know-panicked?” His eyebrows knit together, eyes darting from place to place. You could practically hear the grinding as the gears began to turn in his head. “I just...really wanted to see you again and I thought the best way to do that was to ask you to help me with some super-smart-person thing.” 

“B-but, why? Why would you subject yourself to listening to me ramble for the past hour? On a topic, you don’t even need to study for no less!” Ford questions, a blush steadily rising in his cheeks. 

“I don’t know… I guess I didn’t wanna risk scaring you off by asking you out on a date.” You shrug, twirling a stray strand of hair around your finger. Ford’s flush deepened, his shoulders beginning to hunch with tension. 

“I-I wouldn’t have been scared,” he states, attempting to sound intrepid but the quiver in his voice gave him away. You give him a look, catching his gaze and causing him to look away quickly. You chuckle softly; closing the textbook you were pretending to follow along with moments before and setting it on the ground. “I-is-” Ford’s voice cracked and he quickly tried to cover it by clearing his throat. “Is...this a date?” He questions.

“Do you want it to be?” You reply. 

“I-I don’t know what that means…” He stammers, eyes wide in confusion and shock. You lean forward slightly,

“Well, what would you consider to be a date?” You ask. Ford blinks, his brain slowly beginning to catch up.

“I don’t know...I don’t think I’ve ever been on one.”

“Shut up, no way!” You exclaim, Ford jumps slightly at your excited reaction. “There’s no way you’ve never been on a date before! I don’t believe it.”

“Well...there was this one girl in high school-”

“Aha! I knew it!”

“But, I don’t count that.” You tilt your head. 

“Why not?” You notice Ford’s shoulders slump slightly and hear him give a slight sigh.

“Because she screamed when I tried to hold her hand.” Ford sighs, looking down at his open hand before closing it into a fist. His voice carries that kind of tone which says this memory used to be very hard for him to recount.

“She didn’t.” Ford nods; you gasp. You could feel your blood begin to boil like you were back in the cafeteria. “That’s...awful. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“It’s not the first time. I’ve been teased for them all my life. Though, I’m not sure if it’s better now or worse.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when I was a kid, it was simple: the bullies beat up the nerds. Now, instead of punching, they point and stare. I think I’d rather have someone punch me instead of whispering behind their hands when they think I’m out of earshot."

“It’s because bullies are cowards. Their self-esteem is so low, they have to put others down in order to feel better about themselves.” You state, looking down at Ford’s empty hand. You reach out and take it, effortlessly weaving your fingers with his. “There, see?” Ford froze, staring at your intertwined hands. “I don’t know what her problem was.” Ford’s gaze flicked up to meet yours. You watched the blood rush to his face, a healthy flush steadily blazing across his cheeks.

“W-what-uh-what would you consider to be a date?” Ford asks, nervously. Pulling his hand away from yours to scratch the back of his neck.

“Depends on the occasion. Normally, the first date helps you to get to know the other person more: so you wanna avoid concerts and movies because it’s harder to talk to them. Instead, most people usually go and get lunch, dinner, or even coffee. Then, you can decide if you want to go on another date with them.” You answer, thinking back to past dates.

“And is faking an astrophysics mid-term included on that list?” Ford teases, a grin pulling at his lips.

“It might be a little out of the ordinary but, I don’t see why not.” You shrug. “Hey, I was finally able to talk with you some more. That’s all that really matters in the end.”

“Whatever you’d like to call it; this is...nice. I don’t usually have people over.” Ford admits, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Don’t you get lonely?” You ask, shifting yourself closer to him.

“Not necessarily, I do have a roommate but…” Ford trails off, his gaze drifting upwards to the white ceiling. In the silence, the faint sounds of dance music drifted down through the thin floors. Muffled music, loud conversations, laughter, and stumbling footsteps: a party. “Sometimes I feel like I’m missing out on that ‘college experience,’ that everyone told me about.” He remarks sadly, his gaze dropping back down to the floor. You scoot a little closer, your knee resting against his thigh.

“What do you mean?” You ask, tracing the angle of his sharp jawline with your eyes. Ford shifted slightly under your gaze, a slight flush returning to his cheeks.

“Y-you know: going to parties, drinking, maybe finally…” He trails off, his face now a healthy shade of pink. The lightbulb over your head finally went off. 

“Are you...a virgin?” You inquire. Like when he recounted his flunked date from high school, the way his shoulders slump and his eyes shut told you everything you needed to know. “Hey,” you reach out a hand to cup the side of his face, turning his head to look at you. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” Ford sighs, leaning into your touch.

“It’s pathetic.” He mumbles, avoiding your gaze.

“No, it’s not!” You shift so you were now sitting back on your legs. Your other hand traces around his ear, fingers grazing over his jawline. Ford’s body went stiff, his wide-eyed gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips. The two of you sat there for a moment before you finally leaned in to close the gasp. His lips were warm and soft against yours, but the rest of his body was incredibly tense. You pull away, letting one of your hands drop to his chest. “Was that okay?” You ask cautiously. Ford was bright red, his hands gripping his comforter tightly. 

“I-I’ve never...I don’t-” He stammers, struggling to find the right words. This time you take his face in both of your hands and force him to look at you.

“Stanford. I like you. I really like you. I think you’re sweet and caring,” You say gently, running a hand through his hair and scratching at the back of his neck. “And you’re not going to scare me away. I promise.” Ford sighs, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. You let your hand drop down to his, taking the pen out of his grasp and bringing his hand up to your lips. You place a feather-light kiss against his wrist before moving onto his palm and then across his knuckles. “...Would you let me?” You whisper against his skin, a flush starting to creep across your cheeks. Ford looks at you with confusion.  
`  
“...Let you do..what…?” The trepidation and fear in his voice reminding you of walking across ice you know is too thin.

“Pop your cherry, dummy” Ford’s gaze shot up to meet yours, a blush blazing boldly across his face and spreading to the tips of his ears.

“Wha-uh-ye-uh, wait- I don’t-” he rambles, desperately searching the room for something else to focus on.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” You grab the notepad from off his knee and set it aside. With the obstacles now removed you slip yourself into Stanford’s lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. You immediately felt his entire body stiffen again under your touch, his hands nervously grabbing fistfuls of his comforter. You run your hands over his shoulders, attempting to ease out some of the tension. “Is this okay?” You ask softly. Ford was still staring down at his bedsheets; you could feel his rapid heartbeat under his sweater vest. “Hey,” You use your hands to guide his face up to look at you. “This is that ‘college-experience’ you were talking about missing out on.” You stroke your thumb over his cheek. He sighs and leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut.

You lean forward and pull Ford into an embrace, his chin resting against your shoulder but his hands remained clenched at his sides. “Ford..” You whisper into his ear, hands wandering down his arms until you clasp his hands in your own. “You can touch me,” Guiding his hands up your thighs and stopping them to rest on your hips, you felt your own heart begin to race. Ford let out a shuddering exhale, one hand even venturing up to your waist. He pulls his face away from your shoulder, his gaze jumping back and forth between your eyes and lips. This time, Ford leans in first. His kiss was a chaste one, hesitant. You eventually close the gap again, deepening the kiss and testing the limits by nipping at his bottom lip. You hear a groan get caught in Ford’s throat and felt his grip tighten on your hip. You smile against his lips, pulling away to kiss down his square chin and sharp jawline. Your fingers curl around the short hairs at the base of his head. You tug gently, giving yourself better access to kiss and suck on his neck. You relish in every gasp and shudder you elicit from the young man beneath you as you left your mark against his skin. You pull away; Stanford was beet red, breathing heavy, his glasses beginning to slip down his nose. “You okay?” You ask, hand coming to rest against his neck, admiring your handy work as purple marks blossomed against his flushed skin.

“Y-yeah,” he nods, pushing his glasses up. 

“You wanna keep going?” You smirk, running your hands down his chest. Ford’s eyes widened at your question, your nimble fingers toying with the fringe of his shirt.

“What do you mean?” He gulps, seeming so torn between fear and curiosity. You readjust yourself in Ford’s lap, causing him to gasp, and wrap your arms back around his neck.

“Well, we can keep neckin’ each other for a bit more…” You dip down and kiss him deeply, sliding your hands down his shoulders and chest. You break away, resting your forehead against his. “Or we can get a little more…” You lean in and whisper into his ear. “explicit.” You punctuate your sentence by grinding down against Ford, smirking as you feel his growing erection pressing against your thigh. “That okay with you?” Ford nods vigorously, his hips rocking slightly. You chuckle, untangling your arms from around his neck and resting your hands over his. “That’s what I love about you virgins,” You tease, guiding his hands up to the hem of your shirt. “You’re so easy to turn on.” You use his hands to pull your shirt up over your head; Ford’s eyes went as big as saucers. “Like what you see?” You tease, giving him a coy wink and a shimmy as you let the shirt fall to the floor. Stanford caught himself staring and ripped his gaze away, up to your own.

“You’re so beautiful…” He whispers, getting bolder with his movements and sliding a hand further up your waist. He hovers a six-fingered hand over your breast, waiting for the green light. “C-can I-'' He began to ask before you put your hand over his own. You hum with content as his large, warm hands massage your breast. Ford leans in and begins kissing your neck, soft and sweet. You smile, tilting your head back to allow him better access as your own hands snuck behind to unclip your bra. With a small click, the straps started to slip down your shoulders. Ford pulls back as you take off your bra and let it join your shirt on the floor. You didn’t think it was possible for him to get any redder: you were wrong.

“My eyes are up here, genius.” You taunt, hooking a finger under his chin and lifting his gaze up to meet yours. Ford gulps nervously and licks his lips in anticipation.

“S-sorry,” He stutters. You run your finger over his jawline.

“I’m just teasing you, smart guy.” You smile. “You can look all you like.” You empathize with your claim by arching your back slightly. You shiver as Ford slides his hands up your back, pulling you close so you were held flushed against him. Ford continues kissing your neck and you hum contently as his warm hands wander over your skin. Letting out a quiet gasp when he pinches and rolls one of your stiff nipple between his fingers. You could feel him smile against your skin at your moans and shutters as his mouth began wandering over your sensitive skin. Down your neck, over your collar bone, and stopping at the apex of your breast. He stops to look up at you, a silent request, which you readily answer in the affirmative. Ford grins, his head ducking back down. Your back arches and your hand came up to grab at the back of his head as his warm mouth enveloped your sensitive nipple. You shudder as he swirls his tongue, his other hand tenderly massaging the other breast. “Ford,” you gasp. Ford’s head shot straight up.

“Huh? Do you want me to stop?” He asks, tone laced with concern.

“No! No, god no,” you say, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Can I take this off?” You ask, tugging at the bottom of his shirt. Ford glances down at your hand and gulps, looking back up at you and nodding. You bit your lip excitedly, pulling his sweater vest up over his head and tossing it aside, making quick work of his button-up underneath. Finally freeing him of his clothing, you run your hands over his warm skin. His broad chest was peppered with dark chest hair; your eyes wandering hungrily down his torso, following the happy trail which disappeared into the waistband of his pants. You wrap your arms around his neck again, kissing him passionately as you pull him down on top of you. His hands roam over your body with new-found confidence and you smile against his lips as you feel one of his hands begin to unbutton your pants.

“Is this okay?” He whispers, his warm breath against your ear causes goosebumps to break out over your skin. You nod encouragingly, lifting up your hips so Ford could take off your pants. Discarding them on the floor with the rest of your combined clothes, your eyes close as Ford’s hand slips under the waistband of your panties. You moan, back arching into his touch as his fingers tease your slit. “You’re so…” He gasps. You open your eyes to see him marveling at your body with a look nothing short of pure amazement.

“I told you that I like you.” You giggle, a moan quickly taking its place as he finally dips his fingers between your lips. For, supposedly, never having done this before, Stanford was a surprisingly quick learner. Basing his actions mostly off of your reactions: long and slow strokes to make you hum and moan and short, tight circles around your clit to make shake and squeal. You shamelessly grind against his hand, holding onto his arm so tightly that it was guaranteed to leave a mark. “Oh god,” you hiss as he slips a finger inside you; a thought suddenly popping into your head. “Stanford, you wouldn’t happen to have a condom, would you?” Ford froze, looking at you like a deer in the headlights. You let your head drop back against his pillow, “Fuck.”

“I-It’s okay, we don’t have to-” He stammers, pushing himself off of you.

“No it’s alright, I’m on the pill.” You reassure, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Just, do me a favor and don’t come inside, okay?” Ford tilts his head at you slightly. “You wanna get it in, right?” You ask, sitting up and palming his erection through his pants. He shudders under your touch, nodding vigorously. “When you’re about to,” you make a suggestive gesture. “You know, just pull out. Think you can handle that?” Ford nods again; you bit your lip, fingers beginning to pull at his belt. “Then what are you still wearing this for?” That’s all that was needed for Ford to make quick work of getting out of his pants. You lie back, eyes-widening hungrily as Ford frees himself from his boxers. You can feel the heat rush to your core as he strokes himself, pulling down your panties and letting your legs splay open wide, beckoning him closer. He lines himself up at your entrance, the both of you gasping as he eases his way in. You let your head fall back, your hips starting to swivel on their own accord. You’re stopped when Ford grabs onto your hips tightly, ceasing any further movement.

“Wait wait wait! Stop, stop-” He squeaks out; his eyes screwed shut and his breathing labored. You smirk at him, mischief dancing dangerously in your eyes.

“Sorry,” you say apathetically, grinding your hips down slightly. A strangled groan gets caught in Ford’s throat which lights a fire within you; you wanna make him make that noise again and again. Ford’s thrusts are shaky at first, uneven and stuttering. But like before, he quickly picks a steady rhythm, mainly based on your reactions. Your legs wrap around his waist as he continues to thrust deeper into you. He leans down, peppering your neck and chest with kisses as you drag your nails down his back, leaving fiery red scratches in their wake. “Oh fuck, Stanford!” You moan into Ford’s ear as one of his hands sneak up to grab at your breast. You can tell when he starts to get close; his pace quickens and his hips begin to sputter. When his eyes shut and his head rolled back you frantically begin tapping his shoulder. “Out, out!” You remind him. Ford panics, pulling out and finishing on your stomach. You watch the color drain from his face as he realizes the mess.

“Oh god, I’m-” He fumbles, tucking himself back into his boxer and hopping off the bed to grab a towel from his laundry basket. “I’m sorry,” Ford mutters, embarrassingly as he cleans you up. You give a little laugh, sitting up as Ford tosses the towel back with the dirty laundry  
.   
“Don’t be sorry,” you say reassuringly, pulling back on your own underwear and slipping on Ford’s discarded button-up from the floor. “What did you think was gonna happen?” You pull him in for a kiss again before getting up and heading for the door.

“Wait!” Ford calls out. You stop and turn to face him, your hand on the door handle. “Would-uh-would you like to stay the night?” He asks sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. You smile at him.

“I’d love to. I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick,” You say, walking towards him. You kiss the pad of your thumb and press it against the dimple in his chin. “I’ll be right back.” Pulling his shirt tighter around your body as you leave his dorm and head towards the bathroom. You slip silently back into Ford’s room to see him standing frozen in place, your bra in his hands.

“I-I wasn’t, I was just-” He stutters, his ears turning pink and gesturing to your clothes which he had folded and placed on his desk. You smile, taking the garment out of his hands and tossing it onto the pile.

“Thank you.” You say, slipping your hands around his neck and kissing him. He melts into your touch, hands coming to rest on your hips. “That’s very sweet of you.” You beem, holding his face in your hand and gently stroking your thumb across his cheek. “Ready for bed?” Ford nods and the two of you get settled under his covers. Ford lays his head on your chest, your chin resting atop his head. He hums contently as you run a hand through his hair, lightly scratching at the base of his neck. “So, how was that for the first time?” You ask, lightly tracing the hickeys you left on his neck.

“Perfect,” he mumbles sleepily against your skin. Ford looks up at you suddenly. “Did you…?” He asks; you shake your head. Ford pauses before rolling atop of you again, leaning in for a kiss before trailing down your neck. Shifting towards the end of the bed as he continues to kiss down your body: your chest, sternum, and stomach. You stop him just before he disappears beneath the blanket.

“You don’t have to-” You start but Ford cuts you off. 

“But I want to!” He claims, placing a kiss just above your navel. “I’ve...always wanted to do this.” He admits sheepishly. You can’t help but smile, giving him the go-ahead and his head slips below the covers. You lay your head back and sigh contently as you feel him press kisses against your inner thigh. You were right: he’s a keeper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so you came back for seconds, huh? Thanks! I really appreciate it!  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter and all of its smutty glory ;) let me know if you enjoyed it and want more!  
> Thanks so much for reading!!

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! You read my story?? Thank you so much!! Let me know what you thought by dropping some kudos or leaving me a comment!!  
> I'm going to be adding the second part of this story shortly, I wanted to post this much because everything seems to be going to shit and I feel we could all use a nice little distraction :)
> 
> Thank you again so much for reading!! I hope you have a wonderful day! :)
> 
> also, lmk what song would be playing in your walkman!  
> mines "Cherry Bomb" by The Runaways


End file.
